


nighttime rituals

by Purely_a_trashcan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Qui-Gon Jinn, Enemas, M/M, Marijuana, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Submissive Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26083744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purely_a_trashcan/pseuds/Purely_a_trashcan
Summary: I'm sorry.... I just can't help myself. Qui-Gon gives Obi-Wan an enema. Again, to the people that caused this, you know who you are.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 74





	nighttime rituals

**Author's Note:**

> all mistakes are mine. I didn't get the chance to have a text to speech reader read this to me before I wanted to post it.

Obi-Wan loved sleeping with his Master. 

He loved Qui-Gon’s warm sheets, his long, muscled arms looped around him in a warm embrace, the scent of his Master surrounding him pleasantly. It was too easy to strip off his Padawan robes and climb into his Master’s large bed, burrow under the incredibly soft blankets, and snuggle against Qui-Gon’s very broad chest. 

They had a nightly routine, too. Obi-Wan would sit on the small balcony —afforded to his Master because of his councilman status — while Qui-Gon smoked a blunt before bed. Frequently, Qui-Gon would beckon Obi-Wan onto his lap, pass smoke from his lips to his Padawan’s, slow and gentle. Obi-Wan liked those nights, liked the light feeling the smoke gave him while he sat on his Master’s big, firm thighs. Qui-Gon always got a little handsy when he smoked, sliding his hand into Obi-Wan’s loose tunics to circle and tease his sensitive little nipples most often. Sometimes he would cup a big, hot palm over Obi-Wan’s rapidly growing bulge and provide pressure for Obi-Wan to rut against, all while alternating between hits of the blunt and leaving soft kisses on Obi-Wan’s neck. After Qui-Gon finished his smoke, they would go inside and brush their teeth together before meeting in bed. 

This night was different, though. After cleaning up from dinner, Obi-Wan started to head outside like normal, but Qui-Gon stopped him. “We’re going to do something else before we go outside tonight, Padawan.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, making Qui-Gon smile fondly and cup his cheek. “Good boy. Follow me.” Qui-Gon took his hand and led him to his bedroom, Obi-Wan hesitating at the doorway when he saw how the bed was made up. 

A few towels from the bathroom were spread over the comforter. 

“Oh… Master… I…” Obi-Wan stammered, free hand already going to press against his lower stomach to fight the phantom ache. “Master, I don’t need an enema tonight.” 

“I know, you rarely  _ need _ them, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said fondly, pulling his Padawan to the bed. Obi-Wan followed reluctantly. 

“Will it be big tonight?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, eyes closing as his Master’s large hands lovingly removed each layer of his robes. 

“Yes, little one, it will.” Qui-Gon finished removing Obi-Wan’s robes, brushing loving hands over all the exposed skin he could. He cupped Obi-Wan’s chin, tilting his face up. “Open your eyes, Padawan.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes opened, the blue made brighter by the contrast of the blush that was growing on his face. Qui-Gon smiled at him fondly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

“Good boy,” Qui-Gon murmured, tilting Obi-Wan’s face up just a little further to kiss his soft lips. “You aren’t in trouble, dearest love. The point isn’t punishment.” 

“Then why?” Obi-Wan asked before his brain caught up with his mouth, blushing more while starting to pout. 

“Because I want you to. I want to hold you while you start to swell and squirm. I want to kiss you as you whimper. I want to feel you filling beneath my palm.” 

Obi-Wan squirmed a little, pressing his thighs together. His body was at war with itself, Qui-Gon’s words going straight to his cock even while he stood in his mild dread of the inevitable cramping he was about to endure. Qui-Gon’s other hand pressed against his lower stomach, warm fingers massaging lightly. 

“Lay down, Padawan,” Qui-Gon instructed softly, letting go of Obi-Wan’s chin. Obi-Wan crawled on the bed and situated himself on his side, shivering a little. 

Qui-Gon went into the fresher for a few minutes, coming out with a bulging, clear bag attached to a hose. The older Jedi hooked the bag on the tall headboard before getting their bottle of lube. He guided Obi-Wan’s leg up until his hole was accessible, his Padawan pressing his flushed face into the pillow. 

“Good boy,” Qui-Gon praised, a slick finger circling around the tight pucker a few times before sinking in. Obi-Wan couldn’t help his quiet moan. Qui-Gon thrust it a few times before pressing against Obi-Wan’s prostate gently. Obi-Wan jerked, gripping the sheets. 

“M-Master…” 

“Shh, darling. I’ll play with your little hole later, when you’re all clean.” Obi-Wan hid his pout in the pillow. Qui-Gon pulled his finger out carefully, slicking the thin nozzle generously before pressing it in Obi-Wan. “There you go, little one.” 

Obi-Wan whimpered, thighs pressing together firmly. His cock was already a little hard, just a few touches from Qui-Gon was all it took. 

Qui-Gon walked around the bed and laid down next to Obi-Wan, facing him. Obi-Wan shifted closer out of instinct, pressing his face against Qui-Gon’s chest. Qui-Gon reached behind him and found the clamp on the tubing. “I’m going to start it now, little one.” 

The first gush of warm water inside of him made his cock twitch, his whimper muffled by Qui-Gon’s broad chest. Qui-Gon ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair with reverence, pressing a kiss to his crown. “You’re going to look so stunning, dearest. You always do when your little tummy is so swollen and you’re sweating, trying to be a good boy and hold it in for me.” 

Obi-Wan whimpered again, louder this time. The warm water was forcing its way into him steadily, the pressure already starting to mount. Qui-Gon moved from petting his hair to his waist, squeezing gently. “Such a beautiful, precious thing,” Qui-Gon murmured in his Padawan’s ear, feeling Obi-Wan shift closer until he could press his hard cock against his Master. “Already hard from this, darling? Sweet little thing. How do you feel?” 

Obi-Wan shook his head, whining in embarrassment. 

“Can you take it faster for me?” Obi-Wan’s hips jumped, his cock rutting against his Master’s hip, making the older man chuckle softly. “I’m going to open the clamp a little more, Padawan. You will tell me if it becomes too much.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t remove his face from Qui-Gon’s chest, but he heard the click of the clamp and felt the rush inside him increase. He couldn’t help his moan, feeling full though he was sure he hadn’t even taken a fourth of the bag yet. 

Qui-Gon’s hand traveled to his tummy, running strong fingers over the new softness growing there. The pressure inside of Obi-Wan continued to grow, and his stomach followed suit, swelling and rounding out as the bag emptied into him. 

A sudden, harsh cramp rolled through him, making Obi-Wan whimper and grasp at his Master’s tunic. “Shh, little one. You’re alright, you’re alright,” Qui-Gon soothed, expert fingers massaging his tummy until the cramp eased off. Qui-Gon closed the clamp until it was back to what they had started with, kissing Obi-Wan’s damp temple.

“You took that so well. I’m so proud of you. Look at you, dearest, look at your little tummy getting round.” Obi-Wan removed his face from his Master’s chest, glancing down between them. His stomach was distended slightly but noticeably, and Obi-Wan knew it was only going to grow. 

He quickly pressed his face back in Qui-Gon’s chest, the older Jedi chuckling fondly. His hand moved from his tummy to his hard little cock, wrapping around it and stroking it a few times. Obi-Wan bucked into the touch, whimpering. “M-Master!” 

Qui-Gon continued to stroke him slowly, pressing gentle kisses against Obi-Wan’s hair. “I bet you’re starting to struggle now, hmm?” Qui-Gon glanced up at the bag. “You’ve taken a little less than half, darling.” Obi-Wan whined, knees pressing together firmly. 

“M-Master, I’m  _ full _ .” 

Qui-Gon hummed, tone gently chiding. “No, sweetness. You aren’t full yet. You’ve taken this much before for me, and you’re going to do it again right now.” 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, a surprised cry passing his lips as a cramp shocked his system. Qui-Gon let go of his cock and went back to massaging his stomach, crooning in a low pitch that always settled his Padawan down. Obi-Wan started panting, tears finally springing to his eyes. 

“M-Master, please, I can’t,” Obi-Wan whimpered, gripping Qui-Gon’s tunic in a tight fist. Qui-Gon continued to rub gentle circles into Obi-Wan’s swollen tummy, working the cramp out. Obi-Wan gasped a few times, squirming. He could feel his entire body starting to sweat. “Master Qui-Gon, I can’t, I really can’t...”

“Breathe, Padawan. You can handle this. You’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” Qui-Gon made sure to breathe deeper and more evenly, Obi-Wan catching on and trying to mimic the older man. “Look at me, dear one.”

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment before shyly glancing up at Qui-Gon’s face. Qui-Gon leaned in and kissed him softly, hand still rubbing circles. Obi-Wan whimpered into the kiss, shifting closer with a groan against his Master’s lips. He felt so full, his stomach was so swollen, there was no way he was going to be able to take the entire bag like Qui-Gon wanted. 

Qui-Gon pulled back from their kiss, pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s damp forehead before glancing up at the bag. “A fourth left, darling. You’re doing so well, Padawan.” Obi-Wan sobbed twice before catching himself and inhaling deeply. The sobbing jerked his torso painfully and his stomach protested loudly. “I’m not going to make you hold it, little one. As soon as the bag is empty, you can excuse yourself to the refresher.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to pant out a ‘thank you’, but Qui-Gon continued. “But, if you do hold it, I will reward you accordingly.” 

The younger man let out a distressed whine, mashing his face against Qui-Gon’s chest. “But I’m not i-in trouble if I d-don’t?”

“No, my darling. You won’t be in any trouble, even if you need us to stop right now.”

Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath. “I--I can do it.”

Qui-Gon hummed fondly, nosing into Obi-Wan’s hair. “I know you can, little one. You’re almost done.” Qui-Gon cupped the distended swell of his tummy, resisting the urge to press down lightly. The older Jedi glanced up at the bag just in time to watch it empty, the water line going down the hose slowly. Qui-Gon clamped it fully, rubbing Obi-Wan’s hip. “You’re done, dearest. 

Obi-Wan shook slightly, doing his best to stay calm. “I want to hold it, Master, I want to… I can’t!” Obi-Wan gasped, his own hand flying to his stomach. His blush deepened significantly when he felt how rounded his stomach was. Qui-Gon hummed reassuringly, getting off the bed carefully to not jostle his frantic Padawan. 

“That’s alright, darling, that’s alright,” he crooned, walking around the bed so he was at Obi-Wan’s back. He rested one hand on Obi-Wan’s hip, the other pulling the nozzle out of his hole. “I’m going to help you into the refresher, little one.” 

Obi-Wan nodded frantically, Qui-Gon assisting Obi-Wan in rolling over and getting his feet on the floor. Obi-Wan’s hand cradled his distended belly, eyes glued to it unwillingly. Qui-Gon instructed Obi-Wan to wrap his arm around his neck, but the younger man wasn’t listening, focus turned inward.

Qui-Gon carefully picked his little Padawan up and carried him into the refresher, setting him down gently. “Obi-Wan.”

“M-Master?” Obi-Wan whimpered, looking at Qui-Gon with glassy eyes. 

“You did amazing, little one. Come into the bedroom when you’re ready.” Obi-Wan nodded and Qui-Gon took his leave. He busied himself with putting away supplies and getting a small snack for Obi-Wan once he came out. 

Qui-Gon had sat on the bed with his back against the headboard, reading an article on his holopad when Obi-Wan finally came out, hand still pressed to his now flat tummy. Qui-Gon beckoned him over.

Obi-Wan crawled onto the bed, curling up against his Master’s thigh. Qui-Gon stroked his bare skin wherever he could reach, letting Obi-Wan collect his thoughts. Eventually, Qui-Gon picked up a piece of cubed melon and pressed it to his Padawan’s lips, Obi-Wan accepting it readily. 

Qui-Gon fed the entire plate to Obi-Wan slowly, petting his hair and back in between bites. When the plate was finished, Qui-Gon set it aside and shifted to lay on his back, Obi-Wan adjusting to drape his upper half over Qui-Gon’s.

“You were such a good boy, Obi-Wan. You did so well, little one.” Qui-Gon kept soothing his hands over Obi-Wan’s skin as the younger man relaxed, snuffling against Qui-Gon’s tunic. His Padawan started snoring rather quickly, drained of his energy. Qui-Gon moved them so Obi-Wan was on his side again, curling around his thin frame and holding him close. 


End file.
